


redamancy

by missingcadaver



Series: redamancy universe [1]
Category: Gaya Sa Pelikula (Web Series)
Genre: Angry Sex, Anxiety Attacks, Emotional Baggage, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Family Issues, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions Of Infidelity, Panic Attacks, Some angst, Unprotected Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 11:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29575458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingcadaver/pseuds/missingcadaver
Summary: “I thought you don’t date like those emotionally constipated people in the movies,” Vlad quipped.“I asked if you wanted to fuck, not to fucking take me out to dinner at 7pm.”(In which Karl is emotionally constipated and Vlad is a shameless flirt. They fuck.)
Relationships: Karl Frederick Almasen/Jose Vladimir Austria
Series: redamancy universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209521
Comments: 27
Kudos: 185
Collections: Kilometer Zero: A GSP Prompt Fest 2021





	redamancy

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #124: karlvlad fuckbuddies!AU where "we promised that there will be no-string-attached but one day you decided to wear my shirt and why tf am i smiling and wtf is this warm feeling in my chest.
> 
> To the prompter and to you who's reading this, thank you and I hope you enjoy.
> 
> Cheers!

Karl finds him on the couch just like he always does.

His arm is on his face, shielding his eyes from the sudden burst of light as Karl flips on the switch. He looks pitiful like this, limbs struggling to fold themselves to fit on Karl’s small grey couch. He looks uncomfortable but he seems to have claimed that spot in his apartment. Karl brushes off that thought. 

Karl surveys the state of his apartment. The green jacket lays messily on the armrest of the couch, his headphones are still playing some sad white boy music that Karl can hear from where he’s standing on the door, and his television is on, probably for some background noise. A pair of dirty shoes sits on the middle of the floor of the living room as if taunting Karl. He tuts, walks over them, and kicks them grudgingly near the shoe rack before giving up and fixing them upright. Karl sighs defeatedly and approaches the figure on the couch.

“Told you to always give me a heads up before coming over,” he says and kicks the foot of the couch. He grabs the jacket and quickly folds it before putting it on top of the backpack sitting on the other chair.

“I did. Check your phone,” Vlad says before pushing himself upright. He reaches for the remote and changes the channel to some romantic Korean drama everyone’s currently obsessing over.

Karl reaches for the phone in his pocket and finds two messages waiting for him. One from his father and the other, true to word, was Vlad’s. He opens the first one.

“Sent the money. Last one for now. Tell Aida not to ask for more anymore.”

He deletes that quickly and opens Vlad’s message. “Be there after class,” it said. 

“You always leave your phone on silent for class but forget to check it after,” Vlad says. It's true. Ignoring the world through his phone gives him some semblance of control over his life. That he has the power to choose who he allows to walk into his life and leave an imprint on it.

Karl shrugs, walks towards the kitchen, and grabs himself a glass of water. Manila has started to feel sweltering hot these past couple of weeks. Summer is right around the corner and his apartment is a fifteen-minute walk from their campus. He likes to walk, though. Karl often takes that time to ruminate, play scenarios in his head, or just mentally list the things he has to do as soon as he gets home. These, he does as he inhales all the smoke and dirt from the vehicles in the streets of Manila, nevermind that it leaves him feeling grimy and sweaty these days. He has grown to love the routine.

He’s about to leave when he debates about offering Vlad a drink. He decides to pour him a glass and hands it to Vlad. Karl watches him drink his water in one go and trains his eyes back to the television. The episode has just started.

"I'm just gonna wash up quickly," he tells Vlad and moves towards his bedroom. He pauses over an old box filled with clothes and other stuff. He taps it with his foot before walking past it. That would have to be dealt with later.

"Want me to join you?" Vlad calls out to him. Karl can't decide if that was a joke or not but he declines it nonetheless.

After washing and changing into a fresh set of clothes, he comes back to Vlad still on the couch looking completely immersed in the show. The actors are kissing in the rain. Of fucking course, Karl thinks bitterly. He plops himself beside Vlad and snorts at the slow-motion kissing scene. What a familiar scene. Very cliche, he wants to argue. Vlad ignores his reaction with a wave of his hand.

_("Clichés are called clichés because they are often true," Vlad had told him once.)_

He turns to the side and discreetly watches Vlad instead.

Vlad is leaning against the armrest, looking so, so familiar, so comfortable in his apartment. He has one foot on the floor while his other leg hoisted up on the couch. His shirt is open to its third button, revealing his chest. Suddenly, his mind is flooded with flashes of images: nails raking down the skin, painting red in their wake, lips kissing down, down, down until it goes further south, waking up to cold mornings with his head resting comfortably on top of his warm, sturdy chest. He shakes off the intrusive memories. Karl looks away. 

“You still walk?” Vlad asks him, throwing him a glance before going back to watch his show. Karl hums in response. Vlad tuts.

“I told you to take the jeepney when you’re coming home at night. It’s not safe. You know that.”

Karl grunts. He hates being reprimanded but he’s not about to argue with him. He hates getting into arguments just as much.

Vlad shifts in his seat, lifts Karl’s hand, and moves to rest his head on top of Karl’s lap. Vlad heaves and rearranges his legs so they dangle on the other end of the couch. Karl’s hand hangs uselessly in shock before Vlad tugs it down to his curly hair. He’s asking him to play with his hair. To pet him. They’ve done this before and his hand moves on its own. He starts to run his fingers through Vlad’s hair, easing the knots and tangles gently then lightly massaging his scalp. Vlad moans softly. Karl catches his eye as he does and his fingers stutter for a moment. He clears his throat and goes back to watching. The couple on the tv screen are cuddling on the bed talking about something Karl doesn’t care to know about. But it feels comfortable like this. Familiar, his brain supplies. So, Karl decides to humor him and silently watches the rest of the show with him.

They don’t talk for a while until the credits start rolling. Vlad turns off the television and sits upright. He turns to Karl and breaks the silence. “Right. I’m going home.” 

Vlad starts to pick up his things and has already put on his jacket when Karl’s body moves on its own and reaches for Vlad’s wrist. “Stay.” 

“What for?”

“Stay the night, please?” Karl’s fingers slip down to the cuff of his jacket and tugs on it.

“To fuck?” Vlad quips. It falls flat. 

“To talk,” he says, his voice lilting at the end. He flinches with the way he sounds so unsure and so anxious. Karl looks at Vlad properly for the first time that night. There are shadows under his eyes and he seemed to have lost weight. He hasn’t shaved in days and the old Karl would have chided him for it and then apologize for overstepping. The old Vlad would have retaliated by rubbing his face against Karl’s neck which would lead to roughhousing which would then lead to a quick fucking on the same couch they were sitting on a while ago. But that was then, before Karl fucked everything up.

Vlad eyes him warily and nods.

  
  


* * *

**_Then_ **

They were not friends. They were not even acquaintances. Karl and Vlad were strangers who happened to sit beside each other when they decided to try out for their college publication under the promise of acquiring experiences to become better “journalists”. 

Karl is a journalism major and Vlad was there with a camera slung around his neck. Karl assumed he was a Communication Arts student but he didn’t care enough to ask. He was there to apply as a writer, not to make friends. Vlad went outside after having gotten briefed on his exam and Karl did not see him for the rest of the exams. It was on the day of the interviews for the applicants when Vlad approached him first, with his bright brown eyes and an eager smile.

“Hey!” Vlad said, voice loud and ringing against Karl’s ears. “You sat beside me on the day of the qualifying exams!”

“Silence please!” someone from inside the interviewing room shouted.

Karl threw him a wary glance and nodded. And then there was brief silence. Vlad scooted closer to him and observed him like a child would an aquarium full of fishes minus the tapping on the glass. One moment, his brows were furrowed and his lips were pouting, and the next, he was smirking at him.

“You’re cute.”

“Okay.” Vlad continued to stare at him uncomfortably. “Thank you?”

Silence. Karl tutted. “What?” 

“Wanna go out sometime?” 

Karl scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t date. You can stop breathing down my neck now.” 

“Ooh, confident, aren’t we?” Vlad said with a smirk. Karl threw him a glare and then Vlad was guffawing with both hands in the air as if declaring surrender. "Got it! Message received!"

Karl didn't know what message it was that he received but Vlad was a human puppy, Karl learned soon enough. He started to stick with him and followed him around wherever he would go. 

"I want to be friends!" Vlad reasoned with a nonchalant shrug.

They started to get paired together, with Karl as the writer and Vlad the photographer of his subjects. More like, Vlad volunteered but Karl didn’t care. It was all fine and dandy and he appreciated the companionship although it could be overwhelming around him at times, especially with the incessant flirting. 

_“Hey, I asked Sue to assign me as the photographer for your legworks!” He said as a greeting as soon as Karl entered the office._

_“Whatever. Just do your job.”_

_“Let me treat you to lunch!”_

_And was he supposed to say no to free food? “Maybe just this once?” Chomskie, a friend and fellow staffer, just amusedly raised his eyebrows at him. Despite being a good friend, he was a judgemental piece of shit. Karl ignored him. He wasn’t the one who just saved some allowance._

_“Yo, Karl! Touch my guns!” Vlad asked once while they were walking back to the university after having interviewed some academic achiever in a cafe._

_“I’m not fucking touching your filthy arms.” Karl walked faster._

_“No, do it! Been working them out these days, you see?” Vlad matched his pace to him, raised the sleeves of his uniform and flexed his arm before he looked at him with a playful smirk. “Cop a feel, Karl. I know you want to.”_

_Karl curled a hand on his arm then dug his fingers on it, earning a yelp from Vlad. Vlad frantically shook him off and then ran away from him cackling._

* * *

  
  


It was Karl who opened the topic to Vlad one afternoon when they were left alone in their publication’s office. The other staffers were out doing legwork for their college publication while Vlad and he were tasked to layout the finished articles.

The Blaze’s official office is a small, walled area in a room that houses several other organizations in their college. Their office can only fit two tall cabinets for archives, and a short table with broken drawers for an old and busted desktop computer generously gifted by the Dean’s office to their college publication. The poor thing is filled with sticky notes left by the staffers which serves as the desktop’s only function in the office, otherwise, they would have sold it to the junk shop. Not that they haven’t tried that before. 

  
  


Karl should not have turned to his right, but he did and saw Vlad, busy with his own work. Jose Vladimir Austria is an attractive guy with bright, striking eyes, bushy eyebrows and small, pouty lips. He also has dimples that appear whenever he does so much as purse his lips. When he smiles, the corner of his lips would curl upwards and his eyes would crinkle into little crescents, making him look so much younger and so much more harmless than how he truly is. It makes him cute, Karl had thought then. But more importantly, Vlad has broad shoulders, strong arms, and thick thighs. 

Karl knew he rejected him first, but it's been so long, far too long since he felt the need and at that moment, Karl felt hot and sticky under his clothes despite the air conditioning unit blasting freezing air directly above them-- so, he decided to just ask.

“Wanna fuck?” 

“What, like now?” Vlad replied without lifting his eyes from the screen. Karl shrugged.

“I thought you don’t date like those emotionally constipated people in the movies,” Vlad jested, eyes still trained on the screen of his laptop.

“I asked if you wanted to fuck, not to fucking take me out to dinner at 7pm,” Karl said irately then pushed his swivel chair away from him but Vlad had blocked him with his leg and pulled him back towards him with a triumphant smile. Vlad’s face was inches apart from Karl’s and he felt his breath tickling his lips.

“What’s in it for me?”

Karl shrugged nonchalantly. “Great sex.”

“Oh?” Vlad turned Karl’s chair which effectively pinned him against the sharp corner of the desk. It dug against his back. Karl scrunched his nose and grunted. “Confident, are we? What can meek, little Karl do?”

“That’s for you to find out, no?”

Vlad chortled and shook his head. “I guess so.” And then, “What’s the catch?”

That’s easy. “No feelings involved,” Karl said and pushed him back. His chest felt firm under his palm. Vlad just leaned closer.

“Fine by me. Can you guarantee that on your end, though?"

Karl rolled his eyes. "You don't have to worry about me. Trust me."

"Alright. No feelings involved,” Vlad echoed as his eyes flicked to Karl’s eyes and then his lips.

“Good.”

God, he’s so attractive, Karl briefly thought. His lips looked so inviting up close— not that he hadn't noticed that before— but up close like this, inches apart from each other, he couldn’t resist the urge, so Karl closed the distance and pecked him on the lips. Vlad’s eyes widened. Karl had panicked, apology at the tip of his tongue when Vlad smirked and pressed a firm kiss on Karl’s lips. 

“Let’s finish this and I’ll let you suck me in the stockroom.”

* * *

Karl had kissed him with hunger as Vlad pressed him against the door and his tongue swiped against Vlad’s bottom lips, coaxing his mouth open. Their hands crawled under their shirts, attempting to cover the expanse of warm, warm skin, and they both shuddered at the contact. It had been so long since Karl was touched like this, way too long since he had felt another body against his.

Karl kneeled in front of Vlad, tugged his pants and underwear down in a single movement. He parted his thighs open and slid in between them. Karl reached for him and squeezed him, fondled him, until Vlad’s eyes rolled to the back of his head before they flickered up to the ceiling as if in a silent prayer. Until he was reduced to a moaning mess. He took him in his mouth, wrapped his arms around Vlad’s thighs, and tapped him which signaled him to start thrusting.

Vlad regarded him for a moment, brushed Karl’s cheek with his thumb and then, with trembling hips, started to move and rock and fuck. God, Karl felt so full and stuffed. He took him further, further, deeper until he could feel him hit the back of his throat. Vlad’s hips started to stutter and with a silent scream, filled Karl’s mouth with warmth. Karl had swallowed and Vlad, breathless and sweat slicked and rosy cheeked, tugged him upwards and pressed him against the wall.

Vlad returned the favor right after, kneeled in between Karl’s thighs and blew him like he was trying to undo Karl, to outdo Karl. And he swallowed him, too. And held him, too. And kissed him, too. 

  
  


* * *

_In retrospect, everything had been a mistake from the start._

* * *

It started simple enough. An agreement of some sort that allowed them to be each other’s respite albeit through sexual gratifications. It was a simple arrangement and it was easy, and so, so comfortable to have a body be there for you when you need a companion, a release.

If they were stressed with their classes, they remedied that with hands straying under their uniforms. Bored? They sucked each other off. In a celebratory mood? They fuck. Often, it would be in Karl's apartment since it’s closer. And so often was it that Vlad had to stand outside Karl’s house until he arrived that Karl decided to leave him a key under the flower pot by the door. Karl regretted giving him access to his house with the way Vlad would leave his things scattered all around his space. But it was easier for them to fuck when Vlad’s already taken his shower and waiting on the couch, ready for him to take.

"Text me before coming over, asswipe!"

"I did and I do! Goddamnit, check your inbox, Karl."

Right after that, they’d fuck and they’d cuddle for a bit, talk about anything that Vlad decided was worthy talking about, and then Vlad would leave. It was almost like clockwork for them. Routine. But it did not make the sex any less good. In fact, it was amazing. 

Vlad was a quick learner. He learned where his weak spots were. He learned where to touch, where to suck, where to leave marks that can be hidden under his uniform. Vlad spread his legs for Karl and moaned for him and came for him, on him, in him. Vlad had been a good companion and what they had was simple and it worked.

Somewhere along the way, he started to enjoy the friendship too. Vlad would take him out to lunch. Vlad let him be the small spoon whenever they cuddled even without having sex prior. Vlad would constantly yap about his dreams of opening his own studio, even talk Karl’s ears off but Vlad would also accompany him in the library when he’s studying and he would be just what he needed— a silent companion. Vlad would even moonlight in their section even when he’s too busy with his own classes and photography duties to the publication and surprisingly, he has a way with words that was very much like Vlad: playful and detail-oriented.

And playful and attentive was Vlad in bed, too. 

“Talk dirty to me,” Vlad said one time in the middle of riding Karl on his couch. They were out with the other staffers in a bar called The Bar, getting drunk on cheap beer that their measly allowance would allow them, when Vlad, who was seated across him, caught his eye, and rubbed his foot against his leg with a poker face. Karl knew a blatant invitation if he ever saw one.

And so, despite having been surrounded with other people in the middle of a celebration, Karl excused himself to go to the toilet but not without having seen the devilish glint in Vlad’s eye. As soon as he had closed the stall, there were a pair of lips on him and then, around his length as Vlad took him sloppily, deeper, deeper. He slapped a hand across his mouth and tried to stifle the moans and groans that spilled out of his lips as he spilled into Vlad’s mouth.

Vlad wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You looked like you were about to bolt from everyone there. Thought you might want some… distraction.”

Ever the observer, Karl shut him up by kissing him and then, snaked his fingers down his pants to repay the gesture when Vlad stopped him, and pulled away from the kiss.

“Take me out of here and let me ride you?”

So, there they were in Karl’s apartment with Vlad on his lap riding him with abandon when he asked Karl to talk dirty to him, to whisper filth against his ear. He was not against that and was ready to comply when Vlad suddenly spoke.

“Tell me I’m the light of your life, the fire of your loins,” Vlad said which caused Karl to pause mid-thrust. Time stretched on and then they were shaking with laughter with Karl still inside Vlad. He felt Vlad clench and unclench around him, and Karl quickly socked him lightly on the chest. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, I can feel your dick wilting!” Vlad howled. Karl threatened him with another punch but it only earned them another round of hysterics. True enough, Vlad had kissed him right on the spot behind his ears where Karl liked it best then, moved to his mouth to suck on his tongue, and it was so lewd, so obscene, that it wasn't a problem to rouse him once more. 

Later, when they were watching a Netflix movie with Vlad’s head on his lap, Vlad grabbed Karl’s hands and placed them on his head. Stunned, Karl tried to remove it slowly but Vlad just reached for them once more.

“Pet me?”

Karl scoffed. He refused to look down at Vlad. Karl started patting his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “What, are you a dog now?”

Vlad snickered and then let out a small yip which earned a (half-suppressed) laugh from Karl. Somehow, despite the cool weather outside, Karl felt warm and cozy. 

Vlad chose some cheesy Hallmark film and despite it being absolutely horrendous, Karl found himself enjoying it, especially with Vlad’s snarky commentaries on the side. 

“She fucking fell for him because he renovated her inn but look, the thing went from an old school travelling inn to a badly designed nursing home!”

Karl snickered and then, shushed him so they could resume watching in peace. Vlad started to trace Karl’s knee with a finger and drew patterns on it which tickled Karl. He shook his knee in reprimand which caused Vlad’s head to bounce. Vlad sat up straight and retaliated with a pinch on his arm, which earned a yelp from Karl.

“That fucking hurt!” Karl said and then swatted him with a hand. 

“Well, you started it! My head hurts!” 

“Shut up! Jesus, you have a fucking loud mouth, you know that?” Karl glared at him. Vlad smirked and scooted closer to him. He leaned his chin on Karl’s shoulder blade and then licked his lips.

“Maybe you should buy me a gag next time so you can keep my mouth shut.”

Karl felt his face turn warm and red. His eyes were still on the tv and he refused to look at Vlad’s playful smirk on his face, lest he attempt to wipe it off of him with a punch. Or a kiss. “What, and spend my money on you? You already have my dick for that.”

Vlad’s smirk went wider at that. He leaned back and then ran a finger up to Karl’s arm and then upwards until his hand was cupping Karl’s nape. Karl felt him run his thumb over the column of his neck, tracing, scratching. Karl swallowed thickly. Suddenly, his shirt felt way too tight on him and his couch a little too scratchy on his charged skin.

“What should I buy for _you,_ though?” Vlad hummed and Karl felt his breath hot against his skin. “You’d look pretty with a collar around your pretty neck, no?”

Karl spluttered at that. “I— you— that’s!” 

Vlad started to laugh, and then he was resting his temple against Karl’s shoulder once more. 

“Fuck you!” Karl bit the inside of his cheeks to calm the thunderous beating of his heart. He was caught off guard, that’s all.

“You’re so easy to tease, Karl,” he said and then snuggled even closer to him. 

Karl assumed Vlad was finished with the teasing, but apparently, that wasn’t the case when Vlad suddenly looked up to him with a glint in his eyes.

“Do you think you can call me daddy in bed?”

Karl knew it was a harmless joke, but he definitely did not find it funny. He shook Vlad’s head off his shoulder which startled Vlad. Vlad played it off with a small laugh and then mumbled an apology. Karl thought he should apologize too for the way he reacted but his tongue felt heavy inside his mouth. They finally resumed watching in silence after that. 

“Sorry, the joke went too far,” Vlad texted him an hour later after he had gone home. Karl had already calmed down after overthinking his reaction. He was supposed to send Vlad a message to apologize but Vlad had already beaten him to it.

“It's fine. Whatever. Was just tired. Sorry for my reaction. Knew you were just teasing and nothing more,” Karl replied.

“Is there something wrong, though? You know you can talk to me about anything right?”

“Nah, it’s cool. You don’t need to trouble yourself.”

“Right, ‘cause I’m just a booty call?” Vlad answered, followed promptly by a “Just kidding! Anyway, gotta work on my photos! Talk to you later or whatever!”

Karl presumed that was the case. It was true, they were only fucking. Vlad was nothing but someone who warmed his bed when he needed him to and Karl knew that that was what he was to Vlad, too. But that couldn’t explain why his stomach felt like it was in twists and his chest felt heavy. Karl deleted the message anyway.

* * *

_It was not supposed to be more than that._

* * *

  
  


Karl supposed the rain was to blame that day.

It was pouring and the rain brought with it a cold that clung and crept through Karl’s skin. The sky had turned into a bruised blue and glowed sporadically as lightning sliced through the clouds accompanied with deafening thunderclap.

Karl adjusted the strap of his messenger bag and briefly checked if the recorder he brought with him remained dry. The interview for his subject took way too long and he was starved and famished. 

“Hey, Vlad’s waiting for you in the office!” was what greeted him as he shook off his umbrella and leaned it against the gate of their college building. He looked at it and prayed it would still be there after. He tutted and made his way into their publication office.

Karl saw him before he could even open the door. Vlad was seated on his favorite swivel chair, working on something on his laptop. He looked tired, too. But he was dry and probably made it to the building when it wasn't raining yet.

“I told you not to wait for me,” Karl chided him. He glanced at the wall clock. It was 10 PM.

It had been a long day for everyone in the publication that preluded even more sleepless nights for them. They had been gunning for an early release but things rarely worked out— people refused to be interviewed and staffers have their academics to prioritize. Karl just wanted to impress the editors by claiming abandoned workload but ended up biting more than he could chew.

Vlad just shrugged. “Are you done? With work, I mean.”

“Yeah. Just leaving these articles so Sue can finally start editing. You?” 

Vlad rolled himself towards Karl and reached for the zipper of Karl’s jacket. He tugged it upwards to cover him up and brushed his hands across Karl’s shoulders. Karl tugged his jacket closer to him.

“Yep. Just finished editing the pictures I took earlier. Right after you came, actually.”

Karl hummed in response and fished for the flash drive inside his bag. He tacked it on the corkboard right against the desktop and then wrote a reminder “for sue” on a post-it. He then stuck it on the computer screen right beside the several other post-its. He felt Vlad’s eyes on him, waiting patiently.

_Vlad should not have waited for him, Karl thought._

Karl turned to him and regarded him briefly. Vlad’s lips were curled again and eyes bright under the fluorescent lights of their shabby office. His backpack hung on one shoulder and his feet are tapping to a beat of some white boy song that Karl can recognize if he cared enough. He was still waiting for him.

_But Karl should not have asked him._

“Wanna grab dinner?”

* * *

All the fast-food chains were closed and it was still raining hard. His umbrella was already gone when they left the building and the security guard just shrugged when asked if he saw someone take the goddamn thing.

“It’s fine. We can always share,” Vlad said as he opened his umbrella and it wasn’t like Karl had a choice to begin with.

Vlad slid his arm on the dip of Karl’s back and slowly crawled upwards to rest his hand on his shoulder. Karl visibly shuddered and Vlad pulled him closer until they were flushed against each other. Karl felt his cheeks burn up.

"Mind your hand, mister." Vlad just shook his head with a playful smile.

Somewhere between Vlad’s hand taking Karl’s and slipping them in between, Vlad looked down and smiled, nose crinkling and eyes shrinking. Vlad leaned forward, his lips gently prodded against Karl and kissed him and swallowed him whole, ignorant to the blur of people passing by.

Later that night, Vlad fucked him slow and gentle and firm, unheeding to Karl’s protests and demands of _“harder, goddamn it, fuck me like you mean it,”_ while he was on his hands and knees, no— Vlad turned him around and laid him on his back, held him, and cradled his head with one hand while his other hand ran along Karl’s side as his fingers played the piano against his ribs. Karl jerked away from the caress.

“You’re so thin.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m sorry, we should have had dinner first.”

“Just fuck me,” Karl said impatiently as he pulled Vlad inside him with the legs tangled around Vlad’s waist, urged him to go faster, rougher, but Vlad just chuckled and resumed his soft undulations.

“No, _no_. I said _fuck_ me,” Karl said but his pleas fell on deaf ears as Vlad held him tighter and kissed him with a little too much vigor and pressed their bodies closer like he was trying to ingrain himself into Karl, like he was trying to leave a Vlad-sized imprint on Karl.

It went on for what seemed like hours, the pleasure coming to him in waves that moved to and fro, leaving him quaking and desperate until Karl felt the heat coil up and his body locked and wound tight, tight, tighter, and suddenly, his body was on fire, his ears were ringing, his toes curling, and he had come untouched. Vlad beamed at him and looked at him like he was proud of Karl and of himself. 

Dinner was a silent affair and Karl still felt a little too out of breath by the time they got to bed.

“Can I stay the night?” Vlad asked when he was toweling his hair dry, looking so young, so harmless. Vlad shook his head in an attempt to dry his damp hair and smiled sheepishly at him when he realized he got water all over Karl.

“Whatever.” 

Vlad led him to the bedroom with his hand on his wrist and tugged him down to the bed with him.

He really, absolutely, shouldn’t have agreed but he did and he could only attribute it to having received a good fucking and nothing more.

* * *

Karl's feet were cold. There was a steady stream of light tickling his eyelids and his mouth tasted thick and heavy with sleep. He rubbed his eyes and reached for warmth beside him but only the cold greeted him. His body felt sore and his muscles screamed at him. 

There was a ruckus outside his living room and suddenly, his nose was assaulted with the smell of coffee and something sickeningly sweet. 

Vlad was already in the doorway, struggling with the lace of his shoes when Karl got out of bed. Karl smiled at him.

“I cooked breakfast, hope you don’t mind.” Vlad winked at him and then straightened up. 

Karl peeked at the food at the table and decided, no, he didn’t mind. There was food for his taking and he was hungry, too. Vlad had been using the kitchen for months now. Vlad has been using the shower since they started this arrangement. 

“I have an interview with Randy in about an hour or so, so I ate breakfast without you. Didn’t want to wake you up ‘cause you looked really tired. Figured you might have wanted to snooze a bit more than eating some burnt pancakes,” he said while he was tapping the tip of his slightly damp shoes on the floor. Vlad grimaced.

“That’s my shirt,” Karl said nonchalantly. It’s an old, bright pink Pokemon shirt with Squirtle’s huge face printed on the center. The mixture of colors looked ridiculous with his olive green jacket but that didn’t explain why his chest felt warm and his stomach was in knots. Vlad had been using his things. He had claimed that spot in his sofa, had familiarized himself in Karl’s apartment and Karl never minded. But Vlad was currently wearing one of Karl’s favorite shirts and he looked so good, so beautiful in it and it should have been fine. It was normal to share clothes, after all. 

Right?

Or not.

“Just picked up whatever’s on top in the drawer. I forgot to wash my wet clothes before sleeping.” 

Vlad walked towards him, smiled, and then raised his hand. He looked conflicted for a moment before he lightly patted Karl on the shoulders. 

“Anyway, thanks for last night. It was amazing.” Vlad said. “And thanks for letting me stay the night. You’re a… good friend, Karl.” He added with a small smile before he took off with a mumbled ‘goodbye’.

The door closed with a resounding sound and then, Karl was left alone. 

Oh.

_Oh._

_Oh, god._

Karl’s smile fell from his face. His knees threatened to give. His hands felt clammy and his stomach kept turning. Karl took deep breaths. _He needed to do something._

Quickly, he grabbed himself a glass of water and drank it in one go. His eye caught the pancakes with a smiley face drawn with chocolate syrup. He walked past it and plodded into the living room. 

Karl looked up at the clock hanging in the wall and tried to busy himself to pass the time. He pulled on some fresh clothes before he changed the sheets on his bed, the one they soiled last night. He tried not to feel disgusted at himself for sleeping without changing them but Vlad had tugged him sleepily and he couldn’t find it in himself to say no when he, himself, was tired and sore and aching. He then threw the sheets and his clothes in the hamper with the other unwashed clothes before he decided to just pop them all into the washing machine.

Next, he went for the dishes that were piled haphazardly on the sink. Vlad had always been messy whenever he used the kitchen (or the shower, for that matter). He ran the tap and started to scrub on the pans and plates as he looked outside his window. It had rained all day yesterday and the sky looked dark and heavy and ominous. He tried to focus on his task at hand.

After having washed the dishes, Karl quickly checked his phone for emails. He found none. What else could he do? Right. Karl pulled out his vacuum and started to have a go at it on the floor first, the carpet next, and then, the couch. Vlad was a messy eater and would always leave crumbs everywhere, especially on his spot on the sofa where he always sits. 

The washing machine dinged and Karl pulled out the laundry. He was tossing them one by one back into the hamper when his hand fished out Vlad’s shirt out of the dryer. 

_“You’re a good friend.”_

_"A good friend."_

_"Friend."_

Karl felt bile rise up and suddenly, he was running to the bathroom to throw up, his hacking unable to drown out Vlad’s words that kept droning on and on in his mind.

He was washing his mouth when he saw Vlad’s toothbrush and he stared at it, inconspicuous little thing that it was. It’s like something snapped inside of him and the next moment, he was flying across his apartment with the toothbrush firmly gripped in one hand.

He went for the books and notebooks labelled with JVA on top of his desk first. He rummaged through his closet next and found a drawer full of shirts and underwear and socks. He tossed them outside the door where they landed next to a pair of slippers. Karl dragged them all into the living room. 

He paused, breathless and sweaty from moving around but it still wasn't enough. Karl surveyed his apartment and god it was a mess, but Karl still saw Vlad everywhere. 

_I love him._

_Oh, god._

_It’s happening all over again._

_I’m in love with someone who will never love me back._

He eyed the food on the table. The fucking pancakes seemed to taunt him and mock him. Karl grabbed the plates and threw them across the wall. He went for the cup of coffee next, grabbed it by the mouth, and spilled coffee all over his hand, scalding his skin and turning into bright pink. They shattered into pieces; the sharp chunks fell to the ground, drowning Karl’s labored breathing and his cries of “I fucked up, I fucked everything up.”

  
  


It’s like Karl has been cut open, left too exposed for the world to see. Like an old wound that’s been picked at and then left to bleed again. And again. And again.

  
  


It’s hours later, when he had packed all of Vlad’s things in a box and had cleaned up the mess in his kitchen, that Karl decided to pick up his cellphone from the bedroom and with trembling, bandaged fingers, he typed.

  
  


_“Hey, do you think you could set me up with someone?”_

  
  


* * *

  
  


Karl held the menu of the coffee shop known for its ridiculously overpriced coffees, and avoided the gaze of the man. In front of him was Russell, an Architecture student and his date. It wasn’t that much of a date, really, because what guy goes on dates and avoids talking to them? But then again, Karl was the one who asked this. He was the one who sent Chomskie that text message and begged him.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Anna had said when she got roped by Chomskie into Karl’s request. Karl only shrugged in response and tried to play it off nonchalantly. 

Russell stared intently on his face and it made Karl squirm in his seat and hide behind the menu all the more. 

Russell was an attractive guy with medium length hair which he parted in the middle and strong eyebrows that betray his gentle demeanor. His eyes are hidden by a huge pair of eyeglasses that only magnified them which, in turn, made him look even more charming. His cheeks are flushed but Karl’s not sure if it was hot outside or they’re just naturally crimson. Either way, he looked like a... a cherub, his brain supplied.

  
  


Awkward silence seemed to be in abundance but that would be mostly because Karl had always been like this: he drowns out the conversation and replies only whenever he is asked. That was why he never bagged a second date in all of his dating history. Not that he wanted to. But it felt good to feel wanted every now and then. He decided to at least try to be present in this one.

Karl cleared his throat. "I, uhm, write for The Blaze. You know, the college publi—”

“I know,” Russell said with a huge smile. He’s wearing braces and it makes him look so much more adorable. “I’ve been asking Chomskie to introduce us since the start of the semester, actually.”

“Oh?” Karl asked, his curiosity piqued. “Sorry,” he added quietly. “He probably couldn’t introduce you because there was—”

Brown eyes, strong jaw, beautiful smile. 

“No one,” Karl amended quickly. “I was just busy. With stuff. You know how it is.” 

He wasn’t seeing anyone before. He— Vlad and him were— they were nothing. No, they were friends. 

Except friends don’t fall for their friends. It was terribly unfair to Vlad when Karl was the one who told him there would be no feelings involved. It was Karl’s fault that he fell for Vlad’s kindness. He was touch starved. He preened under his attention. He was supposed to be responsible and reasonable. In the end, it was guilt that made him ignore Vlad’s calls and messages after that day.

_"Sue told me you asked for a different photographer for the interview tomorrow? I'm free though?"_

_"Did you want to have dumplings and rice or something from Pasta Boy for lunch? I can drop them by the office if you like?"_

_"Hey, there's a movie I've been wanting to watch, would you like to come with?"_

_"Saw you at St. Raymund's today! Busy?"_

_"Thea told me you haven't been to the office all week? Are you alright?"_

_"Karl, are we okay?"_

"Karl, are you okay?" 

"Huh?" Karl snapped out of his daze. It seemed like Russell was talking about something but he had tuned him out. Karl grimaced. There went his attempt at trying to be a decent date.

He has done this so many times that Karl can already predict how this whole thing is going to turn out: Russell will be on his phone the whole time and will excuse himself to take a call from his friend or his classmate or any other family member. Then he will go back to the table looking apologetic and say that he is sorry and that he has to leave early due to an emergency.

Surprisingly, Russell just continued to talk.

"I was just asking you what made you want to write?"

People. People made him want to write. He had always been fascinated with them as a kid. He would memorize people and attribute specific characteristics to them. Rose Ibañez, the grandmother who lived by the eatery who always wore deep red lipsticks every single day. She pretended to love her son's cooking but would always spit it out the moment he looked away. Simon Manansala, the reporter who smiled like a cat and walked like a cat. He was also known to be as cunning in the industry. In fact, it was Simon Manansala who inspired Karl to take up Journalism. He was found to be guilty of tax evasion as soon as Karl applied to the university, though. There were the Severinos, the family who lived in the big house which smelled fishy all the time. They used to sell fish sauce until they moved to the States where they brought their famous Severino's Patis only to be rebranded into just Severino's for the Americans. There was also Tomas Matias, the old, balding man who lived in a house which matched his equally old surname: dusty and rusty. Adelaida Almasen, his mother who has kind eyes and gentle smile but was thought to be perhaps a little too boring. A little too old. A little too much. Jose Vladimir Austria, a handsome young lad who was… something. He was something to Karl. 

_"For someone who writes about people, you sure are scared of them,” Vlad quipped once._

In the end, Karl gave Russell a shrug and settled for "It was something I've always wanted to do."

Russell smiled at him like he just said something wonderful. 

The conversation moved on to Russell’s interests. Karl finds out that Russell, like Vlad, is into sports, is a foodie, and a film buff. Russell talks with the last syllables of the last words of every sentence lightly dragging into a soft, high pitch. Whereas Vlad has a deep, baritone voice, Russell has a much gentler tone. Karl finds that he had been doing a lot of that the entire date; comparing Russell to Vlad— no, looking for Vlad in Russell, perhaps?

Karl excused himself to get a refill of his coffee and proceeded to the counter facing the window. He shouldn't be doing this, he thought. It was unfair to Russell. He seemed like a good guy. He was sweet, he was soft, and gentle, and good-looking but he wasn't what Karl wanted. Karl knew that at the very least. He only fooled himself by having come here.

He made up his mind to leave, to be upfront with Russell and was about to grab another cup of coffee, perhaps as an apology, when he looked up and a rock fell into the pit of Karl's stomach.

Outside, Vlad was staring back at him, his brows furrowed and eyes filled with anger and judgement and a little too much like betrayal. Vlad sneered at him and then walked away from the cafe and away from Karl. 

Karl wanted to move, to reach out, and to run after him. He wanted to ask him what he was doing there. Why did he look furious? But all he could do was stand rooted to his spot and watch him walk away from him.

Karl didn't think he could fuck this up even more than he had, but maybe he just did.

  
  


* * *

Karl did not hear from Vlad for weeks.

Two weeks of radio silence and questioning stares from staffers of The Blaze about why Karl didn't know where Vlad was until Vlad himself showed up unannounced in his apartment one Friday evening. 

Karl found him on the couch, on the very same spot he had claimed for himself, with his limbs slung sloppily across the couch. His things were everywhere. His bag was emptied all over the coffee table and his jacket was on the floor.

Karl did not dare move for a moment, frightened that he’d disturb the scene should he take a single step, like ripples in water, and Vlad would be gone when the surface hushed, stilled, calmed. He was scared he'd be left with that sick, rolling sensation in the pit of his stomach. He swallowed the lump in his throat and flicked the lights.

  
  
  
“You’re here,” Karl managed to say after a while. Vlad hummed in response.

"Sorry, I didn't tell you I was coming over."

“Doesn't matter. Do you want something to eat?”

Vlad tutted. “You don’t cook.”

Karl walked over to the living room and dropped his bag to the small couch. Karl paused over him and fiddled with the hem of his uniform. Vlad stared at him but Karl refused to look back. He looked like a kid about to get reprimanded but that wasn’t anyone’s doing but Karl’s for looking so guilty. 

“You were on a date,” Vlad said suddenly after a few minutes of awkward silence. There was an accusation underneath that left Karl reeling from his words.

“I was,” he said. He took the remote from the table and turned on the television. 

“Thought you don’t date. Aren’t you like, scared? Normally, you’d be such a coward around people, wouldn’t you?” Vlad pried the remote from his hand and turned the tv off promptly. Karl flinched from his words. 

“I don’t. It was a one-time thing.”

“Oh? Why not?” Vlad continued to look at him. “You two looked good together, you know?”

“I don’t. Now, hop off my dick, will you?” he snapped. Karl stepped away and his toe caught the strap of the bag on the floor. He kicked it and the bag skidded under the table. Vlad kicked a leg of the table in response. Karl threw him a glare. Vlad crossed his arms across his chest and huffed. 

“The nerd and the... other nerd? Loner? What a pair you must have been, huh?” 

“I really don’t want to talk about this. If you’re done, you know the way out, asshole.”

“Right, right.” He nodded. “‘Cause you’re emotionally stunted and all. I get it,” Vlad said with a wave of his hand. Karl’s stomach swooped and irritation rose from him.

“Fuck you, Vlad, okay? Why do you even care?”

Vlad stood up and leaned closer to his face. “I don’t know, but maybe you could’ve warned your personal dildo when you’re about to discard them.”

“Personal—” Karl exhaled sharply. Did Vlad think so little of him? His irritation blew up to full-on rage and Karl pushed him hard that Vlad staggered and fell to the couch. “What are you here for, then? A one last fuck? I already told you—”

Vlad rose and crushed their mouths together in a bruising kiss that all Karl could do was groan in pain when their lips clashed, banged against each other. Karl briefly tasted the alcohol in Vlad’s mouth that he failed to smell on him. Karl sank his teeth into Vlad’s bottom lip in retaliation. Vlad growled in pain as Karl’s mouth was filled with a metallic taste. Pain. There was pain in the way they kissed, mixed with desire and resentment. Karl shoved away that thought and tugged into Vlad’s hair, exposing Vlad’s neck to him. Karl started to suck along his jaw down to his neck, dragging his teeth against salty skin. Vlad moaned in pain and pleasure but he was not about to go down without a fight.

Vlad hiked Karl’s legs around his waist and hauled him up. Surprised, Karl wrapped his arms around his shoulders and continued to coax Vlad’s lips open with his tongue. Karl didn’t know how they ended up in the kitchen instead of the bedroom but it didn’t matter. Suddenly, Karl was on the kitchen counter with Vlad between his legs. Vlad began to reach for Karl’s uniform and tugged it out of him. Karl heard buttons dropping and seams ripping, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. All his mind and body screamed for was Vlad, Vlad, Vlad. Karl forced Vlad’s shirt out of him next and as soon as he pulled his clothes over his head, Vlad immediately latched onto Karl’s chest which prompted Karl to clamp his thighs around Vlad. Vlad sucked and bit and laved the reddened skin with his tongue, and Karl clutched Vlad’s nape and hair with his hands. 

Karl’s skin was burning, thrumming, electric, and Vlad was licking him cool and running his deft fingers across his body. It was too much and not enough all at once. Karl pushed him away and began to open his pants with trembling fingers. Vlad helped him yank it off of his legs and then, quickly pulled down his own pants and underwear. He then fished out a bottle of lube from one of the drawers, which Karl remembered being there from when Vlad decided it was wise to have lube ready at their disposal everywhere at all times.

Vlad started with two fingers and then he was coaxing moans and groans from Karl who was splayed across the counter with one leg hung over Vlad’s shoulder, and the other hanging over the edge of the countertop. The tiles felt cold and hard against his lower back as Vlad curled his fingers inside him and through the haze of lust, Karl felt embarrassment creep on him with the way he was open for Vlad’s taking. 

No.

_No._

“Now,” he said through gritted teeth. 

Vlad immediately pulled out his fingers and then lined his length into him. Not waiting any further, Karl pulled him inside with his leg and oh, _oh_ , did it burn. Karl was aflame and Vlad’s moans against his ears just lit his body even further. The pace was immediately brutal and the sounds of skin slapping against skin drowned out the screaming inside Karl. He hated Vlad, he hated how he flirted with him, how he entered his life without any preamble. Karl hated the way Vlad made him fall for him, only to sink into an abyss with no end in sight. With no one to catch him. Karl hated him so much. 

Karl raked his fingernails across Vlad’s back, scratching, sharp, stinging, and Vlad hissed, groaned in pain, and the hands on his hips tightened. It was different than the last time they did this. Last time was too slow, too personal, too much. It left Karl exposed and gaping. Karl liked how messy and sloppy it is right now as Vlad plowed him, and gripped him firmly. He would bruise, that was for sure. It was painful but anything to distract him from the pain inside was welcomed. Unbelievably, Vlad started to thrust even faster, faster, faster and then, Karl’s hand reached for his length between their bodies. He stroked in time with Vlad’s rough pace and suddenly, his back was arching, and he was coming with a pained cry, coaxing Vlad to his release as he clenched around him tight, tight, tighter. Fuck.

The apartment was silent except for their labored breathing and Karl registered the sound of something viscous drop from between his legs to the floor. Vlad held him for a moment, their heaving chests against each other. Up, down. Vlad softly stroked his head and pressed a kiss on his sweaty forehead. This was familiar— Vlad’s warmth, his kindness, his body, his touches— this was Karl and Vlad before Karl decided to fall for him.

Shit.

Shit.

Karl quickly shoved him away like he was burnt and looked into Vlad’s eyes for the first time that night and saw something that made him feel sick. Tenderness. Or was it pity? The reality of the situation, the weight of what they had done crashed upon him. Panic took over Karl’s body and before he knew it, Vlad was wrapping his arms around him, shushing him, and rubbing Karl’s back consolingly. His chest felt heavy and tight like a rock had settled on it. Karl belatedly realized that his whole body was shaking and there was something liquid running down his cheeks. Vlad wiped them off of his cheeks. 

  
  


“Karl, you’re okay,” Vlad said, alarm evident in his voice. “You’re okay.” Vlad picked up his shirt from the floor and helped Karl put it on. 

Breathe. Breathe. Breathing was difficult. He pushed Vlad away from him with both hands and then he was sliding down the floor with his back against the drawers. He was gasping for air, but it felt like someone was choking him. Karl clawed on the collar of his shirt but his fingers just left red marks along his neck and sternum. Vlad grabbed his hand and hushed him. Karl felt something cool and wet thrusted into his hands. He looked down and realized it was a glass of water with a straw on it. 

“Drink.”

Vlad helped him lift the glass to his lips and Karl took sip after sip with Vlad gently massaging his shoulder. Vlad stood up after and Karl heard some shuffling from across the room and then a blanket was thrown on his bottom half. Right, he was still naked. Karl looked up and saw that Vlad was already fully dressed. Gone was the tenderness in exchange for worry that was painted all over his face. He sat beside Karl and continued to rub gentle circles on his shoulder. 

Minutes seemed to have bled into what seemed like hours, but Vlad stayed sat beside him. Was he mad? Karl didn’t know. Probably. He should be. But he did see regret in his eyes earlier and it weighed heavily on Karl. He shoved the thought to the back of his mind to focus on his breathing. One. Two. In. Out. Slowly, slowly, slower. The hand on his shoulders felt comforting. Vlad’s warmth beside him even more so. After a while, his breathing began to even and his chest felt considerably lighter. 

Later, Vlad had guided him carefully, slowly, into his bed and then ran wet cloth on his body. Having deemed him clean enough, Vlad then tucked him in. He looked up at Vlad as he drew the blanket over him. The cloth felt soft and toasty against his skin. His eyebrows are furrowed and Karl wanted to reach out to his face and smooth them down. He was okay. They were okay, right? Karl would be foolish to believe that.

“How do you feel?” Vlad asked. “Do you need anything?”

Karl shook his head. Vlad nodded. His eyelids tugged heavily on his face and his body felt sore. Sleep threatened to take him and his vision was blurring. He saw Vlad start to walk away. No, don’t go. Stay. Please.

“Stay,” he whispered but it still echoed loudly in the room. Vlad looked back at him and he, too, looked exhausted. 

“Please.”

Vlad nodded once more and walked towards him. He sat beside Karl, his back against the headboard, and started to hum. Karl recognized the song as a lullaby. He felt Vlad rake his hand through his hair, the pads of his fingers softly scratching his scalp. Karl should have just let him go, he thought. But just this once, he reasoned. Just this once. His hand fumbled out of the blanket and found the hem of Vlad’s shirt. He held on to it tightly. Karl closed his eyes and let the darkness pull him down, down, down.

* * *

In between the state of wakefulness and sleep, Karl felt Vlad kiss his temple and whispered against his skin. In the darkness, Karl opened his eyes and saw Vlad's silhouette drift away from him, farther, farther. Further. 

When morning came, Karl reached for warmth by his side, hoping it was but a dream, but only the cold greeted him. He stole a glance at the clock beside him and found that he can still afford a few more hours of sleep. He curled into himself and closed his eyes once more but sleep eluded him.

_“I’m sorry, Karl,” Vlad had whispered to him._

Somehow, it felt like a goodbye.

* * *

Karl did not hear from him for days. Weeks. Months. Life continued for him. He went to his classes, he dropped by The Blaze, and he wrote about people. This time, he was accompanied by another photographer named Simone. Simone was a jolly woman who’s a year older than he and she’s efficient with her work. She was comfortable to be with. She could keep up with Karl’s demands on the theme of the shoot for his interviews. She’s also kind and wonderful all over, but she wasn’t Vlad. 

Sometimes, Karl would see a flash of him along the corridors of their building, but he would be gone in a wink before Karl could even chance a proper look at him. 

“It wasn’t your fault. I’m sorry, Vlad,” he sent Vlad a month after the incident. Vlad was not to be blamed for how fucked up Karl was. He was not responsible for Karl, after all. 

So, Karl took charge of his life. He took his meals on time and he submitted his projects before their deadline. He sent a message to his father to ask for the money they were due, he sent his mother one too, to ask how she was doing, and he told her how he was doing, too. He went to see a doctor, he exercised, he went out with the other staffers, he befriended a newbie called Joan who was tall and lanky and always dressed like she was out for a photoshoot for some punk rock magazine. She’s cool and funny and at times, way too loud for him but she would pull laughter after laughter from Karl when the silence and loneliness were too much. He managed to befriend Russell too, after telling him he was not interested in dating him but that he was interested in becoming his friend, if he wanted. 

Karl started to walk home too and he would watch out for a curly mop of hair, hoping that from the throng of people, Vlad would appear with his lips curled into a smirk and his brown eyes would be looking at him. Maybe they could talk. Reconcile. Be friends again. 

Occasionally, Karl would find himself reaching for his phone to check Vlad’s social media and find that they had been untouched for months. Karl missed Vlad, he admitted. But he supposed that’s okay. Such admission does not demand a response, unlike I love you which requests an answer despite all the indifference and lies that may come along with it. 

“I miss you,” Karl would whisper to no one at times when he allowed himself to be honest with himself. More often than not, when sleeping felt like a tussle with an enemy he couldn’t see, Karl would find himself looking out the window of his bedroom at night, elbows against the windowsill, observing the city from his room. He wondered if Vlad was out there amidst the glimmering lights of the city and imagined what he could have been doing, what antics he could have been up to right at that moment, and sincerely hoped that he was okay.

  
  


* * *

  
  


**_Now_ **

He was okay and Karl feels like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

Vlad is okay and he is here in Karl’s apartment.

The dampened sound of water pattering from the shower is just another reminder that he is here. Vlad is not just a name on his cellphone, not a bunch of unanswered text messages and missed phone calls. Vlad is here, flesh and bones, and it’s only now that it hits him that this is very much real, and not just another one of those dreams that he’d wake up from with a gaping hole in his chest and a phantom lump in his throat.

The shower knob squeaks and then some rustling, before Vlad emerges from the shower, his tanned skin glittering with droplets of water like a painting of a lake on a hot, summer day. Karl almost forgot how beautiful Vlad is. His stomach has gotten softer and the trail of hair down his belly button has gone lush. 

Vlad moves his eyes around as if he was searching for something before his eyebrows raise in recognition.

“I was wondering where my toothbrush was,” he says, chuckling drily. Vlad walks over to the box and pauses over it, seemingly inspecting the collection of things inside. He hums, his hand hovering before plucking a pair of underwear. He starts to put it on. Karl’s gaze travels from his feet up to the smattering of hair across his strong, robust thighs as the underwear disappears under the towel. The towel falls and Karl looks up, gobsmacked, and sees Vlad staring back at him. Karl looks away immediately. Vlad clears his throat. 

Silence falls between them. It has always been easy between the two of them. He’s seen Vlad in various states of undress, but things have changed now. Whereas five months ago, they would have probably jumped each other at the sight of nudity from the other, here they are, face to face but seemingly miles and miles apart from each other. 

Vlad moves to the other side of the bed with his choice of clothes in tow and starts to put them on. 

“I used the spare toothbrush on the drawer in the bathroom.”

“That’s fine. I forgot to tell you that your things—”

“Have been packed and ready to be shipped?” Vlad says and he has his back on him, and Karl couldn’t gauge whether he actually found it funny. 

“That was in the living room earlier,” Karl starts. 

“Why did you pack it in the first place?” he asks.

Vlad looks at him and Karl shifts to sit closer to him, narrowing the distance between them. Vlad looks down at his lap and fiddles with his thumb. Karl crawls over to him and snatches the towel that hangs around Vlad’s neck. Vlad cranes his neck and Karl’s breath stops. He grabs Vlad by the neck and forces him to face forward. 

“Stay still.” Vlad’s shoulders shake in silent laughter and he turns back to him, teasing him, before Karl raises his hand as if to hit him. Vlad would surely behave now, he has been on the receiving end of Karl’s slaps and punches after all. But Vlad turns back once again with a glint in his eyes and before Karl could help himself, he slaps Vlad on the forehead, leaving a red mark on it. Vlad cries in pain but Karl shushes him. 

“You’ll catch a cold,” he says. Karl picks up the towel again and starts to tousle Vlad’s hair. He pats Vlad’s hair dry, picking up wavy locks and rolling out the water with his palms. He then throws the towel over Vlad’s head and starts to gently press his fingertips against his scalp, moving in small circles. Vlad sighs in pleasure. Karl feels his shoulders sag as Vlad starts to lean backwards against him.

“Your hair’s so short now that you’ve cut it.”

“People cut their hair when they’re hurt,” Vlad says.

“I’m—”

“I’m sorry for walking out,” Vlad cuts him off, his voice barely above a whisper. Karl’s hands freeze and slowly fall to rest on Vlad’s shoulders instead. The towel falls to the side with a thud. None of them picks it up.

“I’m sorry for… for what happened before I left. I’m sorry for disappearing on you like that,” Vlad continues. “Friends don’t just disappear on their friends like that.” Vlad cranes his neck once more and turns to look at him, his face inches apart from Karl’s. “We were friends at least, yeah?” Vlad asks, eyes imploringly wide and nervous. 

Karl could only nod. Vlad exhales and turns his back on Karl, his head hanging low. Karl removes himself behind Vlad and sits properly beside him instead. Karl throws him a small smile and Vlad looks up at the ceiling first, then to Karl before he pats Karl’s thigh. Karl rests his hand on top of Vlad’s. His hands feel warm and familiar and comforting and Karl is shaking. He wants, wants so badly to say something, but doesn’t know how to start. 

“Do you not want to be friends anymore, Karl?”

Karl inhales sharply. He remains silent and bites his tongue. He removes Vlad’s hand from his lap and stands up. This time it’s Karl who moves towards the box and kicks it. He sees Vlad frown from the periphery and starts to walk towards him. 

“Don’t get fucking mad at my shit, Karl. Jesus Christ!” he chides, bending down to push the box away from Karl’s feet. Vlad moves back to sit on the bed, spreads his arms and plops into the bed.

Karl tuts and bends down and scans the content of the box. He reaches for the toothbrush first and grabs an armful of clothes, then stands back up. Karl drops the clothes on the bed just beside Vlad, then walks to the bathroom and puts the toothbrush just beside Karl’s own. He goes back to the bedroom and catches Vlad holding up a shirt. 

“This one’s yours, you know?” 

Karl snatches the shirt from him. He honestly couldn’t remember whether it was his or Vlad’s but he ended up putting in the box. He folds it sloppily and slides it in his drawer. He saunters back to the bed, grabs the other clothes, and starts to put them back into the drawer where he took them from. He can feel Vlad’s eyes on his back but Karl ignores him. He goes back to the box, sits on the floor and starts to inspect the clothes.

“I don’t believe in love,” Karl starts. He promptly folds the shirts one by one and places them to his right. “I saw how it hurt my mother when I was seven. Saw how it ruined our family when my father decided that he wasn’t in love with my mother anymore and left us. People said that she was too kind, too boring. Too much. That my father got fed up with her so he cheated on her with a younger woman who expected very little from him. She was a mistress after all.” Karl scoffs. He grabs a pair of bobbled sweatpants, picks on it, and flicks the lint with trembling hands. He starts to fold it, too.

“Growing up, I was so afraid of turning out like my mom. Of being “too much”. Nevermind that she only loved him, supported him, and wanted him. Apparently, that wasn’t the way to go about love. So, I made myself small. And then, I met someone and I thought, ‘Ah! This is it!’ I tried so hard to be there for him, to love him, to not end up abandoned once again. I was careful not to smother him and I thought I was doing great at loving him, you know? But apparently, I ended up not being enough.” His throat feels like it’s closing up but Karl swallows it down. He continues to speak.

“That’s when it hit me. Love, you see, destroys. And I learned that to love is to give someone daggers. That to love is to permit to hurt.” Karl deposits the clothes back into the drawers then goes back to sit on the floor to work on the rest of Vlad’s things. 

“And then you came. We weren’t friends, you and I. We weren’t even acquaintances. We were… strangers who just happened to sit beside each other that day. And then somehow, we fell into bed with each other—”

“Please, _you_ asked if I wanted to have sex. _You_ were the one who propositioned me,” Vlad quips. 

Karl chuckles and nods. “That’s true.” Karl resumes his task. “And you were good at it you know. You knew where to touch, where to kiss, how to fuck me. You were so good at making me come, good at making me feel good.” Karl pauses and bites the inside of his cheek. “And then you weren’t just fucking me. You were also taking me out to breakfast, accompanying me on my legworks. You were staying the night and cuddling me and talking about your dreams and-- and you’re funny and beautiful and caring and thoughtful. You were _kissing_ me and _holding_ me and I liked it. And then I saw you wearing one of my shirts one day and I panicked, you know? Saw all of your things in my house, my space, and I got so scared.” Karl attempts a laughter to calm his nerves. He waves to the rest of Vlad’s belongings scattered on the floor. “Hence, the box.”

Karl stands up and deposits the rest of Vlad’s clothes back into the drawer. He looks over to Vlad who’s sitting upright, eyes following his every movement. 

“So, why put it back?” Vlad asks.

“They say people tend to leave their baggage in the middle of the room. That we tell ourselves it’s about savoring it all before everything is put away for good.” Karl sits beside Vlad once more, hands firmly put on top of his lap. “I was the one who said ‘no falling in love’, I know that. But--” Karl takes a deep breath. He tries to come up with words, something. He finds none.

“I went on that date—”

Vlad scoffs. “You did and you seemed pretty happy with what’s-his-face.”

“—to forget about you.” Karl looks down into his lap, tries to look for courage somewhere, anywhere. Instead, he says “Vlad, I don’t want us to end before we can even begin.” He reaches for Vlad’s hand and grasps it tightly. Karl can see Vlad’s Adam's apple bobbing up and down like he wants to speak.

“Why?” Vlad asks. His voice is low but it echoes in Karl’s head.

_I like you._

_No— I love you._

_I—_

Karl is choking. He’s drowning. He’s deathly afraid but he braves it anyway. “I’m telling you that I want you, Vlad. If you’d take me— If— if you want me, then I’m yours.”

“Vlad, I love you.”

The silence that descends upon them is excruciating.

_Fuck._

_Say something._

_Anything!_

“But if you want to be just friends then, that’s fine, too. We can just stay as friends if that’s all you want. You’ll have to give me some time to move on, but I’ll be fine. I think. Eventually.”

Karl shuts his eyes close, scared that if he looks into Vlad’s eyes he might see the thing he fears the most: rejection or worse, sympathy. He waits for the laughter instead, waits for him to tell him that he’s sorry because he just doesn’t and will never see him that way; that he misconstrued his kindness and took it as an invitation to fall for him. 

But before he can register it, he feels Vlad reach for him and suddenly, Karl's face is pressed into Vlad’s chest by a palm at the back of his head. Karl’s terrified. 

He feels Vlad plant a kiss into his crown, inhaling his scent. Karl’s heart misses a beat. 

“Don’t you know by now, you idiot? Karl, I’ve always been in love with you.”

It takes a while before his words sink in, but when they do, Karl immediately wraps his arms around his waist, inhales him, and burrows closer to him. Tears start to fall and carve their way down Karl’s cheeks. He chokes back a sob and clings tighter to Vlad, hands firmly clasped behind him. Vlad shushes him and starts to rock them. 

“I’ve always been attracted to you. I think you must know that at least. I asked you out first a long time ago, didn’t I?” Karl nods shyly. “When I agreed to our arrangement, I was bummed, true. Here’s an attractive guy who I want to take out on a date, who I want to spoil and cuddle and kiss but he only wants to fuck. I decided, why the hell not, you know? It’s not like I was already in love with you, then. You just happened to be my type.” 

Karl breaks off the hug and sits upright. Vlad licks his lips. “It...didn’t happen straight away, but it kind of happened over time and the feelings just never went away. They just got stronger the longer our situation went on. I tried to fight it, too, believe me, Karl. I thought it would be unfair to both you and I because I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to your proposal. But I guess I’ve always been into you. You’re smart, you’re gorgeous as hell, you pretend to be cold and aloof but inside, you just want to be held. I just admitted defeat and like what you thought, accepted that I’m in love with someone who will never want me back. I love you so much I couldn’t break it off. I was willing to settle and take what I can get.”

What the hell does he say to that? Karl jumps into his arms and burrows his face on the base of his neck to hide his smile but Karl suspects that Vlad can feel it anyway. “You’re not settling now, are you?” 

Vlad shakes his head and pets Karl’s head. 

“Hey, Karl?”

“Hmm?”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” he mumbles against his shirt. Karl wants to ingrain himself into him, wants to never leave his side again. 

“You called me a friend,” Karl says after a while. 

He sniffs and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. Vlad leans backwards, breaks off the hug for a moment. 

“Huh?”

“You said I was a good friend and gave me a bro pat.”

Vlad guffaws. “Oh, you absolute idiot. You stupid fucker.” Vlad kisses the pout out of Karl’s lips. “No offense, but you were the one who said you didn’t want feelings involved. I just tried to act according to your wishes.”

Karl scrunches his nose. He supposes that was true. 

“I was scared. I’m still scared, Vlad. But I imagine a world without you and—” Karl exhales. “That scares me more.”

“Hey, doesn’t matter now.”

Karl hums. 

“We’ll hurt each other, that’s inevitable, Karl. But we’ll make it work and we’ll make it through. We will.” Vlad breaks their embrace, plants a kiss on his cheeks, then nuzzles back into the crown of Karl’s head.

“I’m sorry that you experienced all of that. I’m sorry that you grew up feeling that way and I hate it. You know, I don’t believe that your father cheated on your mother because she was boring or too much. No one is too much for the person you love. Your father cheated simply because he was a cheating asshole.”

Karl laughs, his chest feeling much lighter than it did these past few months.

“I guess.”

“And Karl? Love, it creates just as much as it destroys. Your parents were in love once, and they created you, after all. And now you’re here with me.”

Vlad scoots back and crawls on the bed until his back is to the headboard. He opens his arms and invites Karl into them with a small smile. Karl’s lips curl into a shy smile and he creeps to where he is, throwing himself into his arms. He lands with a huff and they giggle when Karl’s head bumps against Vlad’s chin. Vlad wraps his arms around Karl and tangles their legs together. 

Karl closes his eyes, content and warm and happy. 

* * *

  
  


_**Epilogue** _

“Maybe we should take things slowly.”

Karl feels ridiculous, maybe a bit naïve, too. His skin is thrumming, his hair is matted to his forehead, his skin damp from sweat and he knows, feels his cheeks are ruddy from embarrassment and arousal. Vlad is on top of him, body pressing him against the armrest of the couch. His eyes are glassy and his wavy hair is pushed back and disheveled from Karl’s tugging.

The night started simple enough: Vlad was on his phone, lounging uselessly on the carpet instead of the couch like a normal human being capable of thinking properly while Karl had his back against the sofa, his laptop perched on the coffee table as he typed away. He has to finish three articles and two essays to be submitted tomorrow and the blinking of the clock beside the television has been daunting, serving as a reminder that he is utterly fucked if he doesn’t finish his dues on time. 

He doesn’t know how he ended up like this, unexpectedly turned on, yet so conflicted about the entire thing.

“Pay me some attention, will you?” was the only warning he received, and then Vlad was up on his face, his laptop and worries suddenly forgotten as Vlad leaned forward and kissed him like he was hungry for him. Vlad pressed against him harder, harder, harder, and coaxed soft mewls from him. Karl pushed back, kissed him just as hard, kissed him just as eagerly and kneaded, pinched, scratched, rough, rough, rough. 

They were only kissing and yet, that doesn’t explain how they were suddenly on the couch with Karl’s shirt bunched up all the way to his armpits, and Vlad’s warm hands sliding down, further, further, bolder. It was so hot and he, too, craved Vlad. He wanted him on his bed. He wanted him between his legs. He wanted to take him and all that he had to give and make him spend in him, oh God, he did. Karl wanted and yet. _Fuck._

“We should take things slowly, right?” he repeats as he tries to sit upright. 

Technically, they are together now. They have talked about it and Karl still finds calling him “boyfriend” a little awkward, if not unfamiliar altogether. Vlad is only his second boyfriend but the only man he’s ever allowed to bulldoze through his walls, though they did have a rocky start in their relationship and it’s making Karl a little anxious. He wants to speak to Vlad and open up about his worries, but in between classes and The Blaze duties, they hadn’t been doing a lot of talking in regards to how they want to proceed about things. 

Karl’s shorts feel uncomfortably tight, even more so that Vlad’s thigh is pressing against it. He clenches his thighs shut which causes Vlad to slide away from him. Vlad looks at him with his lower lip trapped under his teeth and like this, Karl feels like a painting that’s being scrutinized, admired. He would laugh if he couldn’t see it himself— Vlad admiring how he could reduce Karl into a rumpled, kiss-bruised, moaning mess; a canvas of tan with splotches of scarlet red splattered all over that Vlad himself painted on him with his own mouth. He can see the way Vlad is regarding him like an incomplete painting, a bit more texture on the hair, a splat of rose here and there, and a good spattering of white across the chest, perhaps? _Jose Vladimir Austria, Karl’s Ecstasy, 2018. Skin on skin._

Karl flicks him on the forehead and that seems to snap Vlad out of it. Vlad throws him a sheepish smile and runs his thumb over Karl’s lips to wipe the wetness away. Karl reaches for Vlad’s hand before he could bring it down and presses a kiss to his knuckles.

“I understand. Sorry,” Vlad says. “Just... you know.” He licks his lips and then grins at Karl. 

“That’s probably for the best, too, considering the last time we did something had been…”

“Bad?”

“Too emotional. You’re amazing, Karl.”

Karl hangs his head low and bites his tongue. It’s been a rough journey before they got to where they are right now. At times, Karl wavers, doubts that they can last. At times, Karl would try to reach for Vlad’s hand in public and Karl would find himself wanting to withdraw before telling himself, this is okay. This isn’t too much. Unease and insecurities would nag at him at night, when he’s in bed, staring at Vlad sleeping soundly beside him. But Vlad would shift, throw his arms across Karl’s waist and squeeze him tighter, and just like that, Karl would believe again.

“So?” Vlad entwines their fingers together and raises their joint hands. “Is this okay?”

Karl nods and smiles at him. He squeezes Vlad’s palms. “Yes.” 

Vlad presses a kiss to his forehead. “And this?”

Karl’s smile grew impossibly wider. “Yes. And kissing, too. And cuddling, too. Just, maybe nothing below the belt for now?” It feels embarrassing to be talking about this loudly but they agreed on being honest with each other and in openly communicating how they feel. And Karl, he wants to be sure. He wants to take things slowly. Karl doesn’t want to rush into things.

Vlad grins from ear to ear. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up.”

Vlad snorts and leads him back to the floor. “Go finish the things you need to do. I’ll keep you company.”

“Sure. You said the same thing and then accosted me in my own home.”

“Oh, sorry, I couldn’t hear you over your _moaning_ against my ears.”

“Fuck off.”

“Pretty sure you woke the neighbors. Want me to go apologize?”

“Jesus! Why don’t you shut up instead?” Karl throws a baleful glance to Vlad who’s smirking at him. 

“Okay, _boyfriend_.” 

Embarrassment flares up throughout his body but before he runs out of courage, Karl yanks him by the collar of his shirt and presses a firm kiss on Vlad’s lips.

“There’s the attention you ordered! Now, zip it or I’m kicking you out.”

He pretends he doesn’t see Vlad’s winsome smile as he scoots closer to him, resting his head on top of his shoulders. Karl feels safe and cozy and loved. This is right. He isn’t stifling. He isn’t desperate. He isn’t cold. He’s not too much. Vlad is his boyfriend who loves him just as much as he loves him. They can make it work. They will. Slowly. Just like this. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I would like to thank Dante for being my cheerleader para matapos ko 'tong fic na 'to. Kahit na binudol niya lang ako. Love you mumsh!
> 
> Mavs, thank you for your insights kahit na niloko mo pa 'ko sa kineme mo. Kat, grabe sobrang thank you for your help. SOBRA. Alam mo na yan. Love you both.
> 
> To Thea, na wala sa fandom na 'to pero binasa pa rin 'to in its early stage, salamat! Hart hart!
> 
> To Lie, thanks for cheering me on. You da best.
> 
> To the prompter, Por, sana naman natuwa ka. If hindi, plastikin mo na lang ako, dali na. Charot! HAHA 
> 
> To you na nagbasa nito, musta naman? HAHA Charot lang! Thank you for reading! Sana naman natuwa ka? If hindi, oh eh 'di sorry. Eme.
> 
> Artwork by @silverhunter001 on Twitter. Original post here: https://twitter.com/silverhunter001/status/1365127984156319747
> 
> If you enjoyed reading this, please do leave a kudos and a comment!
> 
> My twitter is @pangcakehouse


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